Free to a Good Home
by Ithilien
Summary: Not your typical LOTR fanfic, but familiar to many all the same. Perhaps you will recognize yourself in this? Spoof material. Have a laugh.


  
  
**Summary:** _Not your typical LotR fanfic. Does any of this seem familiar to you? Humor. PG-13. _

**Disclaimer:** _The "Lord of the Rings" characters portrayed in this story are borrowed from the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. All rights belong to his estate and no profits are made from this venture. _

**Free to a Good Home**  
_ By Ithilien _

Karen's eyes grew dreamy as the sensual thoughts drifted through her mind. Soapy water slipped around and caressed her hands while she contemplated the images forming in her brain. A small smile curled her lips as she took in the vision of _him_.

She felt herself giving over to her thoughts. Should she act upon them? She could hear his voice ringing in her ear, so melodic and beautiful. And she could see him. She could imagine him. Hell, she _wanted_ him. All she need do was call him to her _now_, and the pleasure of completing the acts in this daydream would be hers.

She smiled coyly. He rarely let her down for these quickies. Of course, their time together would be short, an hour, maybe two at most. She knew these little one shots never went on longer than that. Granted, he was always attentive when he was with her, but once she had spent herself, he always left as quickly as he came. It was frustrating, really. She would much rather he gave a long commitment from him, something that could last for months and months (she dared not consider years), but she knew that soon enough he'd lose interest in their little venture. Or perhaps it was she who would lose interest. Yes, that was the truth. She hated that she was so fickle. But for this...

The thought was enticing, too enticing, and she knew she couldn't let it get away. She decided she wouldn't mind his haste. Ultimately, he would complete her, and when done, she could bask in the glorious afterglow of their time spent together. That _was _part of what made this all so alluring after all, living in what followed. There were some who berated her for it, no doubt, but she tried not to let them bruise her ego too greatly. As a whole, with both the negatives and the positives, what she did with him was intoxicating and addictive. She lived for those moments when he came to her. And even if nothing was said afterward, she would still do it. She knew that much about herself too.

She turned her thoughts then, considering how she might slip away to her little, in-home office after she ran a load of laundry. It was there in her office that she so often pursued these activities. She liked the coziness of the space, and especially his presence with her there. But what excuse could she give to be doing so? John was home today, taking a day off from work and she was supposed to be taking the day off with him. It wouldn't do to sneak off to be with someone else when he was around. No, she would have to keep her little plan hidden away, kept alive, until later tonight when John and the girls were asleep. She could fulfill her desire then. So long as she could hold onto the thoughts running through her brain right now, she could have him whenever she pleased. She would hide him away in the garage until this evening. That's what she usually did. After all, what was one more passion in a place that housed so many other passions before it? Still, she would have to be sly. She was already in enough trouble with John over stuff like this, and if she was caught in the act again...

_Thwack thwack thwack thwack!  
  
_The hollow sound of a hammer banging a spike caught Karen's attention and broke her away from her plotting. She blinked and then scanned the scene outside the kitchen window, peering at the front lawn and trying to discern the source of the noise. What was that?

John? What was John doing? That was strange. She glanced at his task, shaking her head as she tried to make it out. She could not think of any chore that required a wooden post and a hammer being used on the treelawn in front of their house. And then squinting to exam the scene further, Karen caught sight of something else. Was that a sign he was putting up? A sign? In her front yard? 'Hmm,' was her initial thought. 'Is he selling something?' She didn't remember him saying he wanted to sell anything.

And then her eyes went wide as she realized indeed what he _was _doing. Her heart protested. 'No! Don't let it be that!' she thought and she nearly dropped the plate she had been washing.

With a fair bit of flustered fear, she muttered under her breath, "He can't be serious." But with another _thwack_ at the signpost she could see that he was.

She stood back for a moment, unsure how to react. They had talked about this, but she hadn't really thought he had meant it. Not yet at least. She wasn't prepared. Shouldn't he have said something to her so that she might know? So that she might be ready?

Her belly twisted in a knot and her head began to throb a distant pain. She felt mortified by the mere thought of the sign even being on display. Everyone would now know. Humiliation reddened her face. Her secret was out!

But what if she had seen it wrong. That was possible, wasn't it? She stepped back to the sink again and craned her neck as she balanced on the balls of her toes. There was the back of John's balding head. There was the wooden post. _Thwack thwack thwack_. And there was the sign. It was like a pimple on the end of her nose. She could even read it from here.

And at that given moment, she wasn't sure which of the two things was the worse, the sign or what the sign meant for her. Both were dreaded, and she found herself shaken and unstable just considering them, like one who has suffered a mortal wound. She reached out with a wet hand to grope the edge of the countertop so that she might steady herself.

And there! Already it was beginning. The humiliation!

Across the street she could see Mrs. Wiggins standing in front of her petunia-fringed house, waving away Mr. Wiggins as he headed off to open his little downtown shop. Glancing at John's task as she lingered on her front stoop, a subtle smirk crossed the dowdy woman's lips. Karen scowled at it, wondering what her neighbor might know of such private matters. 'Old busybody!' she thought feeling shame flushing her cheeks. 'She's probably seen the light on in the middle of the night from my office and guessed something was going on there.' Before, there was always her work to blame for such rude hours. But now, with the sign, Mrs. Wiggins, and anyone else who might have wondered, would be able to piece together the real truth.

Nervously wondering who else might be judging her, Karen glanced at what she could see of the neighborhood from the kitchen window to see if anyone else was watching John's actions. Fortunately, no one else was out at this cartoon hour of the morning. In the suburbs, in the summertime, nine o'clock might as well have been a pre-dawn hour. It was that time of the day when the workers of the world were long gone and the stay-at-homes and their kids hovered sleepily over bowls of Coco Puffs. The sleepy street was unstirred, save the furtive glances of Mrs. Wiggins. Apparently no one was ready to make Karen the fodder of their gossip. Yet. There was still the remainder of the day for Karen to bear out.

Karen turned her eye back to the tasks at hand. The pettiness of washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen from the breakfast preparations now seemed so pointless. She could feel the tears pricking her eyes, and hastily she wiped them away with the back of her hand. No, no, this was not right. She would fight this!

She grew angry as she realized just how great John's deception was. It wasn't fair! Really! For when it came to extra curricular activities, John had his regular dalliances just as often as she did, and Karen had never even once said a word. Wasn't it every Saturday morning that he could be counted upon to slip away for the better part of the day? And Karen was expected to just pretend it didn't bother her. Well it did! It did, but by her reckoning, they had come to an understanding in their marriage some time back. If he could pursue his joys at the golf course, she could pursue hers in the back of the garage and in her office. She should have this. It was unfair of him if he thought to take it away. She had always been frank with him about her desires and wants. She thought he had understood.

She rinsed the last of the plates and stacked it with its other mismatched cousins in the drainer next to the sink. Flicking the drops of water off of her hands and hastily wiping them on the damp towel, she stepped away. She would speak to him now. She would not let it end this way! If she hurried, she might be able to convince John to take the sign down before anyone really noticed it.

In a matter of a minute she found herself walking across the front porch, then down the flower-lined path and out to the front curb near the street.

"John--" she began as she drew near him. He turned as she approached.

"I know what you're going to say," he interrupted with a hand up, as if to cut her off. His voice was steady, even chipper. But there was a sort of set determination behind the tone. She could look at him and see that his mind was made. Further, he was prepared for this moment. That only made it all the worse.

She chose to plead her cause, tossing aside her furor for a more merciful approach. "But do we have to do it like this?" she asked, indicating the open air, the sign and the neighborhood about them. She could feel the lump forming in her throat and the constrictive sound in her voice. In a minute she would be crying and she didn't want to be crying. She was angry, dammit! "It's so embarrassing this way," she croaked.

"We talked about this. You agreed," he said evenly. Then his eyes slid back to his handiwork.

She looked at it too. It was the first time she really saw it in full view and it appeared to have more flourish than she had noticed from the distance. She silently read the curlicued words.

_Lord of the Rings_

_Plot Bunnies:_

_Free to a Good Home!_

And then the tears started to come. It couldn't be helped. The implications of his actions were right there before her. "You got the kids involved?" she asked incredulously. Kaitlyn's sparkle-pen outlines were on all the letterforms, and Amanda's telltale smiley-face exclamation point completed the statement. There were also cut-out pictures of all the movie stars (taken from one of her secreted Teen People magazines? she wondered). Now she knew why the kids had snuck off to their friends house so early. Usually they would have been there at John's side, helping. She realized now they were hiding. She supposed it was for the best that they weren't there though. Better that they were not witnesses to the irritation she was feeling. Karen found small glee in it. She would have rather they rallied for her cause.

"Family project," John mumbled, indicating the sign. She scowled. He was trying to be cute about it, but given her mood, he was miserably failing. She could just imagine the scene with John and Amanda and Kaitlyn secreting themselves away together in the basement when she stepped out to get the groceries or to run some other small chore.

It was so unfair! Through it all, despite all the hours spent writing instead of sitting in front of the TV set with her family, she had remained a good mother. She hadn't slipped in her responsibilities. Dinner was still on the table every night, the house was still reasonably clean, she still managed her freelance writing assignments. She still brought income into the household. She still helped the kids with their homework. She still read them stories and tucked them into bed each night. She had managed them all, _and _her little obsession. And it had worked. No one was hurt! So why must it end?

"You planned this, didn't you?" she accused, her voice shaking with her building rage.

"No," he replied, but he wouldn't meet her eye.

"Over our anniversary dinner two weeks ago, when we started discussing it, you had this in mind all along, didn't you?" His face froze into a pinched-up expression. She knew that meant she had hit upon the truth. John wasn't very good at deceptions. It was a good trait to use when she was trying to pry Christmas present secrets from him, but at the moment she wished he were a better liar. "But there was romance in the air, John! You know how I am about romance. And wine! You plied me with wine," she exclaimed.

He broke free of her accusation and laughed. She realized then he was not taking this nearly as seriously as she was. "You had one glass, Karen," he said, shaking his head. "You may be a lightweight, but even you can handle one glass of wine -- and you were the one who said that you were ready for a change."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Her nose was beginning to run. She knew she must look a sight. The words came out in a blathering amalgam of sound, and she knew her loss of composure would be her end in this battle. John hated it when she fell apart. It always seemed to rankle him and make the situation worse. Yet she couldn't help that the tears came. He had involved the kids, and that was playing dirty. "I thought I would be the one to do it. I didn't think it would come like this...I thought I had time..."

As predicted, the joking manner of his words was now gone. "Time for what? This has gone on for over two years now. How do you think that affects the rest of us? How much more were you going to wait before you really started to do something? No, Karen." He waved her away and she knew the discussion was over for him.

She turned and looked at the sign. She couldn't believe he had gotten the kids into this and she shook her head in disapproval. But she supposed, making excuses and reasoning with herself, that it was his way of enlisting their support and getting them to say good-bye as well. This was part of their lives too.

Turning away, she tripped after John, wiping at her tears as she made her way to intercept him at the garage.

"You haven't thought this through, John. The timing is wrong. If you want to do this the right way, you should do it at the right time!" she argued.

"Your mother told me Thursday morning was when the pros come out," he argued.

"She was talking garage sales, John. She and her retired girlfriends are specialists at rummaging and yard sales. But this isn't a garage sale. She doesn't understand the mind of those who'd want plot bunnies. She's thinking like a woman who shops for sport. I'm thinking like an avid fanfic writer." He pulled the garage door open despite her and she went on with her plea, "Wait until dark. That's when the fans really come out. They'll want these. You'll see. They'll go fast when you get the timing right. At this time of day I can't even tell you who is prowling. Teenage fangirls, most likely, filling time between classes. They're not really serious like I am -- like the more mature writers are. They're just biding their time until "Heaven on Earth" comes out."

He entered the garage and looked at the task before him. He breathed a deep sigh before gazing toward her. Standing as he was amongst all the tidy little pens containing the myriad plot bunnies she had conceived, she could see how he might not care one iota for what she was saying. She glanced around, looking at all the carefully marked cages and the multi-colored creatures within. They were all so cute. At least he couldn't complain that she wasn't neat about them. She looked at the cage she would have used for the latest bunny, the one who had been nibbling at her over the morning dishes. That one would be lost, she knew and it saddened her.

John cleared his throat. Holding his hands out, uniting all the cages into one single problem, he said, "These pets of yours are taking over our lives, Karen. I don't care if a rattling den of screamers take them, I just want them out of here!"

And then she looked into his eyes and saw all the agonies he felt, all the cruelties of forgetfulness that she had bestowed upon him over these last couple of years. He had been so overlooked by her in her Lord of the Rings passion, and she couldn't blame him for being troubled by his jealousies. "I know," she muttered, hanging her head in shame. "I'm sorry." He was right.

The sound of a slow moving vehicle caught her attention, and she turned back to the street. She knew without looking what it was. They were coming already. She had heard it never took long once the sign was out. She felt her stomach twist in sheer dread.

An overly large vehicle pulled up to the curb. Three women sat inside, studying the sign and talking amongst themselves. To Karen's surprise, they were older, more mature than Karen might have expected. Maybe her mother had been right? She didn't think the older fans came out this early in the day and she was surprised that her immediate reaction was to think, 'Well, this would be all right.' She watched as they conferred amongst themselves, and then nodding, the driver reached her head out of the window, looked to her left and right, and then called to Karen, waving for her to come nearer. Of course they would beckon to her. Who else would have plot bunnies lying about but the woman of the house. Not John. Oh no, certainly not John.

Hesitating for only a moment, Karen set off at a light jog toward the car. As she did the driver spoke again in a lowered voice, as if she was afraid to say what she did too loud. Karen missed the words and shook her head as she closed the distance to reach the door of the car.

"I'm sorry," Karen smiled politely. She felt she could be friendly with these ladies. With them being Lord of the Rings fans too, she thought it might be nice to actually meet and greet them. "What did you say?"

But the driver of the car didn't seem to share her affinity toward friendliness. She was all business. "Do you have any Hobbits? I don't see any Hobbit pictures on your sign," she commented. Her voice was no longer hesitant and shy. In fact, she seemed a bit terse.

And from the shadows of the back seat Karen spotted a woman with peppered head and thick glasses. She could hear the whining sound of her voice. "I'm not getting out of the car if there aren't any Hobbits in there."

Karen looked back toward the garage, somewhat nonplussed. Hobbits? She never thought about _Hobbits_. Legolas, yes. Hobbits, no. Her preference was for elves. It had always been and she wondered that she had forgotten all the divisions there were in the fanfic world. She thought to tell them that immediately, but there, standing within the garage's entrance, was John. She knew he was hoping to get this over with quickly and in all honesty, so was she. And to be truthful, despite all the misery this was causing her, she also wanted to please him. He looked so stern. She was certain he would brighten if these women hauled away a few of her bunnies. They seemed intelligent enough to deal with the quality she put into their breeding. And so she considered it. If this was going to happen, these were the types of women she would rather be giving her ideas to. She timidly offered, "Well, I have a complete Fellowship bunny."

The general look of disappointment that came over the three women's faces made Karen's heart sink. It was obvious then that these women were not the ones to care for her bunnies.

"Anything just Pippin or Merry?" said the woman from the passenger's seat, ducking her head to look up at Karen from that side of the car. She bore an almost apologetic expression that seemed kinder than what the other two wore.

"I like Sam and Frodo," said the woman from the rear, leaning back in her seat with a pout.

The driver chastised them with a click of her tongue. "Ladies, haven't I told you about this already? You're being too specific," she scolded as she turned to speak to her companions. "When we go out to hit these clearances, we have to keep open minds. There are wonders to be found, no doubt, but you have to see them under all the other layers of stuff. They're not just going to jump out and bite you." Then turning back to Karen she smiled half-heartedly, as if she had just delivered some kind of apology. She said, "This Fellowship bunny, is it at least Hobbit-centric?"

Karen's face reddened. "I'm sorry, no," she said. "It's meant to be told from an elf's POV."

The driver's face dropped into a deeper frown then, and Karen got the distinct impression that this woman felt her smile had been wasted. "You should have put it on the sign," she grumbled as she pushed the car keys back into the ignition. "I wouldn't have even stopped if you had made it clearer there weren't going to be any Hobbits."

Karen looked at the sign. It was true. There was nothing on the sign about Hobbits. But at the same time she couldn't blame John and the girls for that. Not everything could be said in one rather smallish rectangle with only limited room. Besides, the sign was just a summary.

Still, she supposed there might be something more she could add to it. She studied the words.

_Plot Bunnies...Free...Good Home_

Just reading the words again made Karen despair. 'This is silly,' she thought. The sign said everything it needed to say, and she was tempted to tell these snipey women what she really thought of them. How did they know her plot bunnies were not to their liking without even glimpsing at them?

But then there was John. Defensively Karen mustered herself to be kind, trying to maintain her poise, "There's a lot to look at. Maybe you should come see."

"I'll bet she likes Legolas!" the woman from the back seat chided in a voice that made it clear that she hated Legolas.

The three woman shared a disdainful laugh together,as if there were something perverse in Karen's affections, and then the driver said as she waved Karen off, "Thanks, but no thanks. We just want Hobbits." And then they were gone.

Karen could feel her face going red. Such arrogance from within her own fandom! How cruel! But it was also very typical. Lord of the Rings fans were an obsessive lot. Each centrist group thought theirs was the greater character. Well, thank goodness at least that Karen stuck to canon. She could only imagine what the ones who preached the 'Laws and Customs of the Eldar (Morgoth's Ring, Vol. X)' would say if she didn't at least attempt to hold to _that_ Tolkien standard. She marched back up the drive. The incident just proved exactly how wrong this idea of John's was.

He was pulling out the cages now, bringing her hobby out into the light, and she shuddered to think that the neighbors were going to see her private passions right there in the middle of her driveway.

"It's not going to end, you know," she threatened. "Even if we do this, I can't just give it up. I see them in my dreams, you know."

"I know," he said sadly. "They're in our bed. I hear you talking about them in your sleep." This wasn't an accusation, but rather a statement of fact and she knew he was feeling sorry for himself.

"Oh, don't do that, John! I only called out his name that one time," she retorted, remembering the moment, when in the throes of passion, she had cried out for Legolas. "And you know it meant nothing. I didn't get mad when you exclaimed Michelle Pfeifer's name at me that one time." Then she took a step closer, giving him a sultry look and attempting to appeal to him sexually. "And you know it doesn't bother me when you call me _Arwen_."

He gave her a dirty smile. "I do like it when you call me _your Aragorn_."

She smiled as well. Never mind that in moments like those she was imagining slashier thoughts. He didn't need the details so long as he was satisfied with the results.

His smile disappeared though as he glanced down the street to where the kids were playing at Amy's house. "Still, Karen, have you looked under our daughter's bed lately? Kaitlyn's hiding some bunnies of her own there. Have you seen? One was crawling out just the other day."

Karen chuckled. Yes, she had seen. "Those balls of Harry Potter fluff? They're nothing, John. Dust, They'll never grow to be real bunnies."

"Yeah, but you're setting the example. Do you really want your kids to grow up following you like this? What if her bunnies got mixed up with yours?"

Crossovers? She hadn't thought of that. He had a point. And as if on cue, she heard the sound of children's voices and running feet drawing near. It seemed the sudden appearance of all the bunny cages in the drive was enough to draw the neighborhood children to her house. Thank goodness Amy was in tow.

Karen looked to Amy. Darling Amy. She was a few years younger than Karen but she seemed to understand Karen's heart. Amy dabbled in fanfic too, as a reader. Her fandom was DS9, one of those readerships Karen had never fallen into. Still, it was enough to bind them. Amy had been kind enough to act as a confidante to Karen's confessed longings for Legolas. John and Karen's mother were the only other Real Life people that knew of her hobby, and Amy had been the only one who had not rolled her eyes at Karen and told her that her passion could never come to anything lucrative. Amy had even gone to see "Return of the King" with Karen, patiently allowing Karen to squeal like a schoolgirl at the key moments with 'her elf'. But Amy was not really a fan. She had seen the movies, but she hadn't read the books and still didn't quite understand all the intricacies of the story. Yet she was a friend, encouraging and supporting, there for Karen through all the days of writer's block and bad reviews. Even now Amy gave her a warm smile of encouragement as she drifted up the drive in the small circle of children.

The sprightly voices of the kids were animated with awe and sheer joy as they saw the vast collection of bunnies in the garage and spilling out onto the drive. John pulled another row of their cages out, but within, she could see that the walls were lined still with many more of the pens.

"Ooh, Mommy, lookit!" Amy's daughter, Kimberly, was exclaiming. She had sighted the pretty, little, Galadriel bunny and was poking her finger in the cage so that she might venture to pet the little bundle. "It's so tiny!"

Sighing, Karen walked up to the pen and opened up the wooden cage. She conceded to John, and she knew this one wouldn't hurt too very much. Gently scooping up Galadriel, she said, "This one was supposed to be for a fanfic friend, but the bunny never really matured." Bending down to eye-level with Kimberly, she held the tiny ball of golden fluff out so that the little girl could pet it. "See, Hon, it's about Galadriel when she was still young." Then to Amy she said, "I kept hoping Celeborn might show to help flesh her out, but his bunny never showed."

John walked past then and he lowered Karen's hands that she might reluctantly deliver the small creature to the child. The little girl cooed as the golden ball of fluff fluttered in her arms. "She'd make a nice pet," he said to Amy. "We'll throw in the cage for free."

"Oh, um...I don't know if we really should--" Amy began, looking apologetically to Karen.

Another voice interrupted. "Cool! That's so cool! Oh, Mom, you have to see this!" and it was Erin, Amy's ten year old daughter now speaking. "Look at them!"

Karen turned to see a small gathering of children circling the pen that contained Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas. It was easy to tell Legolas from the other two as he was so fair in color by comparison. Where Elladan and Elrohir were nearly identical to each other and had fur the color of the midnight sky, Legolas was light, the color of flaxen wheat. But the beauty of the three bunnies within the one cage was not what was causing all the children to murmur in wonder. It was _what_ they were doing.

"Oh my!" Karen said as she rushed forward and pulled Legolas from the cage. He was about to be sandwiched between the two dark Noldor bunnies.

Erin was there in an instant, oblivious to what the other rabbits had been doing and pulling Legolas out of Karen's arms. She cuddled the silky fur to her face. "He's so beautiful, Mom! Can we take them?"

But Amy's eyes had gone wide as she watched the other two bunnies, black upon black, resuming their activities even with the Legolas bunny gone from the pen. Seeing the expression of shock on her friend's face, and knowing too that there were children about, Karen reached into the cage and pulled yet another rabbit out. Elladan, she thought. He was always so assertive.

"But . . . they're all males . . . aren't they?" Amy asked incredulously, inspecting the card on the cage summarizing the plot idea, and then, with narrowed eyes, the sex of the bunnies. Karen apologetically nodded.

There was something that changed then. Was it a hardening in Amy's eyes? Her friend just shook her head. "No," she flatly said. "Sorry, but no!" At first Karen thought this was being said to Erin, but then she realized that Amy was saying it to her. "I love you to death, Karen, but no. I can't allow that! I'm just not into . . . _that_."

And with the words, Karen felt her gut twist. Was this the end of their friendship? "Amy, please..." she began.

But Amy cut her off. "Had I known ..." She seemed to be digesting the idea, and then her eyes strayed to the house and up to the window of Karen's office. A look of disgust curled her lip as she appeared to regard it as a place of flagrant sexual acts. What did she think? That pornography was being carried out randomly within Karen's home? "My kids shouldn't be around _that_, Karen. They're too young! I haven't even had 'The Talk' with Erin yet."

"What talk?" Erin asked, but then dropped her eyes as her mother gave her a scathing look.

"How could you do this to me?" She took the Legolas bunny out of Erin's arms and then passed it to Karen. Elladan immediately started to squirm in Karen's arms. The child protested, but Amy delivered her daughter a stern look that Erin seemed to understand. The child immediately was silenced. "How could you put me in this position?" And then the normally even-tempered and open-minded Amy was snarling, her words ragged and her breath short, "I just wish you had told me you were into _slash_! You never said a word to me. The least you could have done was put a rating on the sign!"

"I'm sorry, Amy," Karen apologized, but it was too late. It felt like she was apologizing quite a lot today. "I thought you knew. I showed you my e-Bay doujinshis. Couldn't you have guessed?"

"They're are all in Japanese! How was I to know what they said?"

"We looked at the pictures together. We giggled. Don't you remember? I thought you liked them too."

"I was just trying to be nice. Truthfully, I was appalled! But then I thought you were talking about the 'art'. You kept saying how great the '_artwork'_ was. And the paper. How was I to know you were really into the subject matter?" She seemed to digest that thought for a moment, and then she revved up again. "_Slash?_ That's so sick, Karen! A male with a male? That is just so _wrong_!"

Karen knew she couldn't argue with that kind of thinking, despite the fact that science proved Mother Nature to have other reasoning. She was terribly disappointed. She had thought Amy to be far more progressive than this. The hurting words of a good friend were just another mark to blacken this wretched day. But thinking it might help the situation, Karen said in a quiet voice, "I would have kept it to an R-rating, Amy."

"R? That is not an R!" Amy pointed at the squirming bunnies in Karen's arms. They were making it even harder for Karen to maintain her point. "_That _is NC-17!" Karen dropped Elladan back into the cage with his brother, then put Legolas into the empty one meant for her earlier plot bunny. Amy was still sniping, "You can put whatever label on it that you like, but that is just _perverse_!"

There were no words then. Karen sadly watched as Amy stormed off with her two kids in tow and wondered if their friendship could be repaired. She had had no idea Amy was so uptight about homo-erotica.

"Oh, Mom! No! Please... no!" Karen heard herdaughter crying out in a voice of horror.

She anxiously wheeled about to locate her seven-year-old. "What, Amanda? What?" she said as she quickly came to the cage containing a very long grey bunny.

"You can't get rid of Gandalf!"

Was there surprise in those words? Surely John had explained this all to the kids. Gandalf too was in the stack of bunnies to be let go. Yet somehow the gap created by the absence of those two front teeth made her daughter's despair all that much more poignant. "You can't! He's one of the best bunnies here," she cried. This caught her husband's attention as he finished hauling out the last of the cages.

"John, couldn't we . . . ?" But Karen saw the look on his face. The answer was no.

Still, he could be compassionate, and his voice went up into a soft croon as he spoke to the child. "Amanda, honey, we talked about this, remember? If we keep one, we'll find an excuse to keep them all. Remember? We agreed that Gandalf had to go too. You barely ever play with him, and someone else might be able to give him a better home. Remember when we talked about this?"

Amanda looked up, but her lip pouted out. "Do we have too?" She seemed to be pleading with her mother. Karen could only nod. It was breaking her heart as well.

Then seeing that her parents were firmly united, as they usually were even when they seemed to differ, she made a seven-year-old's attempt at maturity. Tears came to her eyes, and she cried out with a sad note of anger, as if she could hurt her parents with the words. But her cry was a logical one, "At least put them all together!"

Karen felt terrible. Amanda really was attached to the Gandalf bunny, even if she only visited him once every few months. "At least make sure Radagast and Saruman go with him!" Amanda went on. They had decided some time ago that the sparks that flew between the three bunnies were a hazard. Though they were all part of the same story, the night when the garage had nearly burned down had been enough to tell them the three rabbits had to be kept apart. But for this, there would be no arguing. The little girl's heart was aching. All three bunnies had to be kept together. Amanda was right.

"Do you see what this is doing?" John said quietly, coming up and taking them both into a great hug. It was the first time that day that he had embraced Karen and she certainly felt she could use his closeness now. Her heart felt like it was shattering in two. Her head sank against his shoulder. He repeated, "I don't want to be the bad guy here, Karen. Help me do what is right for all of us. Help me make her understand. We have to let them go."

Tears slowly fell from her eyes, but she did not feel them unjust. She knew for certain now he was right. Poor Amanda. This was Karen's fault. She had dragged them into this. None of them should ever again have to fall in love with a story she would likely never find the time to write. "Do it," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. Then looking up at him she nodded, "Get rid of them all."

"Do you mean it?" he asked. She nodded looking down on Amanda and trying to think of the words she might say to make this come out right for her youngest child.

But that thought was interrupted as a rattling car pulled up in front of the house. Four teenaged girls crawled out of it, giggling and Karen realized this was where it really began. She could hear them talking.

"omg, this is 2 kul!" she heard one of them cry.

And then another exclaiming, "u got 2 be kidding me right? i like hate rummage sales...j/k...luv it! awesome idea really :P"

Panic in her eyes, Karen turned to John. For Amanda's sake, she must do at least this. "Don't let them take Gandalf! Do you understand me, John? Don't let _them_ take him, or the other two wizard bunnies either."

"Huh?" he said, looking a bit quizzical.

"Trust me! It wouldn't be good! God help us, John, but I'm willing to bet anything that those girls are Mary Sue authors. Don't you see? They will give the three wizards daughters who will have magical powers and before you know it Legolas will fall in love with them! Please, John, just don't do this. Don't let them have Gandalf!"

"Yeah, okay," he said as he turned to watch the teenagers approach. "But why don't you just tell them yourself."

"I can't," she replied. "I really can't! I have to get out of here! It hurts too much already. You'll have to do this without me."

He shrugged. "Okay, but don't blame me if --"

"Just not to them, John. Please. Listen to me. You want someone insightful and poetic for Amanda's bunnies. You'll know the right person when they come. They'll speak in full sentences and they won't use anachronisms in their dialogue." He was still staring at the girls, as if he didn't quite understand. She turned his head her way. "No 'okay's or 'alright's, John! That's not how they speak on Middle-earth. It can't be one of these."

Then bending down to her young daughter, Karen said, "Amanda, I need you to help Daddy find the right home for Gandalf, okay?" And with this, the little eyes brightened a bit. Amanda nodded. She seemed to know what her mother would want. The look in her eyes said that only someone like Karen would do.

Karen stood.

"Where are you going to go then?" John asked. The teenaged girls were now eyeing the various cages inside the garage and hadn't yet made it to the ones outside.

"I have to get away from this, John," she said, not really answering him, but hoping the desperate look in her eyes said enough.

He smiled at her in a kindly way then. Softly he said, "Why don't you go in the house and see if you have any new reviews?" She smiled back. It was one of the sweetest things he had ever said to her. She was actually tempted to do so.

But then she shoved the idea aside. The ache was greater than anything a good review could give her. "No, I think I'll go take a walk."

"May I come with you, Mommy?" It was Kaitlyn speaking, her oldest child as she snuggled the little Galadriel bunny to her chest. The young face was so earnest, as if she truly understood just how painful this was for her mother.

Karen smiled. It was a gentle offer: a child's companionship to brighten an adult's melancholy. But she shook her head no. "Not this time, honey. I need some alone time right now," she said and John nodded to her in understanding. He steered the girls back to the garage then, leaving Karen in her peace to walk away.

Taking quick steps of escape, Karen no longer cared who was looking at her or was now coming to the house. Cars were starting to line the street, and she realized few of those arriving were even in their twenties. Still she had to hope that there was someone amongst these strangers who might give her pets the home they deserved.

She could feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes again. How she loved her Lord of the Rings plot bunnies. She was not sure she was ready to let them go. Was a chapter of her life closing? It just didn't feel right. She wasn't sure she had reached a point where she could say 'The End'.

She turned the corner and found herself on a quieter street. She felt the sob gush from her throat as she made her way along the tree-lined avenue. For a few blocks all she did was blindly walk and cry. But as she made her way down the sleepy side roads, the tears began to subside. She fell into a sort of numbed state of acceptance.

The chatter of a squirrel up in a tree caught her attention, and she glanced in the creature's direction.

What was that! She did a doubletake. Was that an elf she saw leaping onto a limb and out of sight?

No. No, it was not. She shook her head an instant later and scolded herself for allowing her imagination to take hold of the moment. There was no elf. There never was. The wind merely mustered the branches of the tree in a breeze. It was her imagination playing tricks with her. It was so typical of her though, to immediately put the motion to an elf.

She smiled then at her wild thoughts as she allowed her imagination to go free a moment more. It was so easy to contrive a little scenario in her head, and it made her feel better as she let go of her misery for just a moment. She heard a musical voice speaking, as if whispering to the squirrel, "Keep my secret, little friend. She must never know." The echo of the words hung in the air, and then a moment later it was trailed by a light laugh. That was all she heard, but it was the beginning of an idea. She knew all she would need to flesh it out was a few minutes of contemplation. Already her brain was awhirl. She was halfway through concocting an idea when a bunny came hopping out from beneath a bush and flitted near Karen's feet.

Karen dodged back, realizing what she had just done. She had made a new bunny. A new _homeless_ bunny. "No! Go away!" she said to it. "I can't keep you. Forget I even began to think of you. I can't take you home. Shoo! Shoo!" And with that Karen quickly began the walk away.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the plot bunny trailing behind her, like a good pet, but she did not stop to give it time to catch up. It kept her pace, and her steps grew brisker until she found she was at a quick run. She didn't dare look back again.

The plod of her feet on the sidewalk made a rhythmic sound as it echoed between the close set of the houses on the quiet street, and for just the passing of a moment it sounded to her like that of horses hooves pounding on a grassy turf. In her mind she heard a voice, deep and gruff and anxious, "Hurry, Legolas! Hurry! They gain on us!" and she realized it was Gimli who she had heard speaking. And then she turned her head and she could see the dwarf and elf paired on the back of Arod. In her eager attempt to get away she could imagine a ringwraith on her trail. _Their _trail, she corrected. Wasn't that always her problem? She imagined herself in a situation, and when she did, she could easily see her favorite characters living out her response. And there again, a new set of bunnies began to scamper beside her, darting quickly to match her pace (and doing a fabulous job of it she had to admit).

"No! No!" she cried, knowing there was little she could do to get rid of these creatures once they arrived. They were as bullheaded and stubborn as a troll.

She stopped in her tracks. There before her was indeed a troll. The massive monster looked lost and somewhat pitiful, dumbly wandering the sidewalk of the suburban street. But trolls were dangerous, and she knew she must avoid him. She would have to swing wide of the path to dodge the monster. What if he managed to hit her? And then she was no longer herself, but a certain Ranger. Getting healing attention in the wilds was nearly an impossible thing to do, and if _you_ are the only known healer for leagues about and _you_ are the one who is hurt, it can be a nightmarish experience. Poor Aragorn! Getting hit by a troll and then having no one to help him would make for a gruesome tale. And then she was herself again. She blinked, and there, where the troll had once been, another little plot bunny hiphopped forward.

She had told John it would not be easy, but here, free of cages, it seemed the bunnies came even more eagerly than they did at home. Was it the open air that brought them out or Karen's desire to be rid of them? It seemed she could not be away from them no matter how hard she tried.

She turned for home and they followed in her wake. "Shoo!" she hissed again, but they seemed determined to trail behind her. Resigned, she wondered if any of the youthful bargain hunters rummaging through her garage would be willing to literally 'hunt' for these new bunnies. Here they were, roaming wild and free, and all one need do was wait for them to hop into their arms. They seemed very docile. It didn't seem like it would take much for a seasoned fanfic writer to easily corner one or two of them and make them their own.

And then suddenly a thought occurred to her and she wondered that she had not thought of it before. More than a new idea, it was a brilliant one. She was so startled by it that she almost tripped over the bunnies all around her. She came to a halt. About her, the multi-colored bunnies paused just as she did. She gazed down at them, gawking at what now appeared so obvious. They seemed to be watching her as well.

"You should be free," Karen whispered, her eyes bright and suddenly filled with the light of understanding. "You can't be penned!" And of course, she realized fully the truth of her passion.

"Oh dear God, John was right!" she exclaimed as she brought her palm up to her brow to smack this new sense into her head. "I can't keep you contained and within just _my_ home. I can't keep you all to myself! How selfish is that?" Then talking more directly to the little rabbits, she said, "You should be free to roam, shouldn't you?"

It was almost as if all the bunnies nodded to her in unison, and she wouldn't be surprised if it were so. Her imagination, when it was doing its thing, was pretty strong, and she never discounted it. In any case she felt the bunnies had affirmed her realization, nodding or not, and with that she broke into a huge smile.

"It doesn't matter one bit if I keep you safely tucked away, because like it or not, I'll always be able to make more. Oh God, why didn't I see it? I've been so afraid of letting you go. What an idiot! I didn't realize that by clinging to you, I've been missing out on all the new ideas that just might be better. I haven't let you grow. That's right, isn't it?" she asked the bunnies, and this time she was certain they really did nod in agreement. "I get it now. I have to stop feeling guilty if I can't complete everything I begin." And here the bunnies seemed to be waiting for something more from her.

Karen straightened, and looked forward toward the main road that would lead her back home. She was ready to be there now.

She looked down at the furry creatures bouncing around at her feet. She could see what was to come. John wouldn't be pleased when he saw them coming, but once he came to understand that they weren't there to stay, he would accept it. He would see because she was certain this was the right thing to do. They would come and visit if they wanted, but she wouldn't pen them up any more. He couldn't object to her imagination running free, for it was one of the things he loved about her. But he could concede she needed to write what came to her mind from time to time. He really did understand her needs, after all. He had never objected to that part of her desires, only the obsession and her passion for living only in that world. He wanted her in his world, and she couldn't blame him for that. They did love each other after all, and he had married her, not a shadow of her. She would give herself back to him.

"Fine then," she said aloud to the bunnies, and she laughed with her new resolve. Like it or not, there were rules to be followed. "But you're on your own. Got it? You'll have to fend for yourselves. I'm not doing it. You'll really need to watch out for the neighborhood cats too. The Billingsly's, two doors down, have some good mousers. They'll likely be after you if you're not careful." One or two bunnies slackened their pace for a moment, but then they scurried to catch up to the others once more.

Undaunted, Karen continued. "And you're also on your own when if comes to food. I'm not putting kibble out for you or growing any special garden on your behalf. Survive like a bunny, that's what I say. And don't you even think about touching my petunias. I'll turn you into stew meat if you do. Got it?" Most of the bunnies stayed with her, although a few of them did scamper off with the threat.

And then the final condition came. "And John. He will skin you alive if you dig any holes in the lawn. You'll have to limit yourselves to the field on the next block over. You can't stay in my yard."

A few new bunnies flitted out to join the traveling group, and at the same time, a few began to lag behind, as if their interest had declined already and they no longer wanted to make their way into the fringes of her life. Karen admitted that she had given stiff guidelines, but if she was going to have plot bunnies about her, they would have to conform to her, not her to them. She wouldn't let them take over her life anymore.

She felt as if a huge burden was now lifted from her. She no longer had to push for an idea to flesh itself out. She didn't need to struggle to keep her fans happy. She decided she didn't care about what the fans thought. She would stop looking at reviews as a crutch to her ego. Perhaps she might even start anew under another penname. That idea was tantalizing for it would free her of all the silly games she played to garner more reviews. Yes, she could write for the sheer pleasure of it once again.

But whatever she did, she knew she had to put herself and her family first. And if one special bunny should come her way, and that bunny could truly commit himself to a long-term story, well that was fine too. But she wouldn't become a slave to that desire. It would not have a priority over the rest of her life. That belonged to her family, her home, and her career. That was the more realistic way for her to live. She realized too that this was what John had wanted for her all along; some balance between her home life and her fantasy world. She knew she could give that.

And with that, her mind turned to gentler thoughts. If they were not already gone to a good home, she hoped that she might find Amanda's Gandalf bunny and his companions, Saruman and Radagast, still unclaimed when she returned home. She thought they might like life in the wilds. Well, Gandalf and Radagast might, at least. The poor Saruman bunny might not make it against the Billingsly's cats. Then again, she considered, she could easily imagine Saruman recruiting them over to his side of the battle. Feline henchmen. Yes, that would be like him.

She laughed as she walked, almost skipping the rest of the way home with the bunnies behind her. Granted, she looked a little funny, but she didn't care any more how she looked. These were her whims and her passions and the world could accept that or not. But she was done hiding them. Oh yes, life was about to become very interesting. She remembered too that Mrs. Wiggins had a wonderful garden growing in the back of her house and more petunias than any sane person should have. She'd have to point that out to the bunnies once she got home.

The End

**A/N:**

_Now you know what I did on my summer vacation._

I tried many times to give this plot bunny away, but no one wanted it. Perhaps someone will want some of my others. In any case, they are roaming free now. Take them if you will.

And like the character in this story, I have let my obsession go free too, though I am certainly not done writing LOTR fics. Just keep your eyes open. If you come across an interesting plot bunny to what appears to be a new writer, you might ask yourself if she could really be Ithilien in disguise. Who knows, maybe she is.


End file.
